


Return To Sender

by GreenSaplingGrace



Category: Compilation of Final Fantasy VII, Final Fantasy VII Remake (Video Game 2020)
Genre: Alternate Universe - Merpeople, Cloud Strife Needs a Hug, F/M, First Meetings, Flowers, Fluff, Meet-Cute, Merman Cloud, Mild Hurt/Comfort, Misunderstandings, POV Aerith Gainsborough, POV Cloud Strife, Soft Cloud Strife, Whump
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-07-06
Updated: 2020-07-06
Packaged: 2021-03-04 19:21:24
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,510
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/25101580
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/GreenSaplingGrace/pseuds/GreenSaplingGrace
Summary: Flowers litter the surface of the water. Rose-tops that are bright pink and clearly valuable. Cloud assumes the human must have lost them, so he returns them all to the pier she visits.Aerith doesn't know what to think when she comes back and finds that every single flower she'd set out to sea has been brought back to her. This day certainly couldn't get any weirder.
Relationships: Aerith Gainsborough/Cloud Strife
Comments: 18
Kudos: 146





	Return To Sender

The water is bright with the sun’s refractions when Cloud wanders close to the surface, shimmering like stardust beneath the golden rays. Above him, the waves are small and rounded things, moving gently with a cool breeze, and the call of a passing flock can be heard in muffled disarray. 

It’s the perfect weather for a dip in the sun, Cloud knows, although that’s not at all why he’s here. And anybody with half a brain wouldn’t even think to swim this close to the shore for a mere sunbath, no matter how desperately they might want it. 

A job, on the other hand, is occasionally worth the risk. Especially one that pays as well as this one does.

Cloud doesn’t immediately break the surface when he arrives, eyeing the shoreline warily from where he hovers beneath the waves. There aren’t any people around that he can see, which in and of itself is strange, but he assumes the jagged rocks and half splintered quay have something to do with it. This area of the shoreline doesn’t look at all like the long stretches of sand usually dotted with land dwellers. Instead, it stands abandoned and broken, mauled by the fury of past tides. Cluttered with wooden shards and matted sealife as the victim of neglect.

Strangely enough, the pier itself remains bright and pristine. A long wooden platform that extends further into the water than Cloud is comfortable with most days.

Today is a special day, though.

There’s fifty thousand gils worth of a reward waiting for him on that shoreline, and like hell is he going to let some up-and-coming dry-behind-the-ears go getter retrieve it before he does. And the pier is empty, so there isn’t much chance of danger. _Land dwellers are fearful people,_ he thinks, rolling to dive deep and swim toward his goal.

_Hopefully, they will stay that way._

Cloud’s never had the best of luck.

The mission itself goes off without a hitch. It doesn’t take him long to find what he’s looking for, thank the stars, and he’s quick to retreat back out into the deep of the sea. Trading cool breezes and clear, thin waters that drag at his tail and trap him on sand for the dark open expanse of freedom once more.

Until, that is, a shadow passes overhead. The skies are dark and stormy now, rain pattering atop the surface of the water. Yet it isn’t the storm that Cloud sees, but rather a small, dark circle trailing above him, carried unsteady on roiling waves as it travels out to sea.

He rears back at first, tail lashing and trilling furiously in an attempt to scare it away, but it just keeps on moving. After a time, he stops threatening it, swimming in uncertain circles beneath the shadow until he finally decides to breach the surface. His head pops above the water, arms raised instinctively in case of an attack, claws razor sharp and fangs readied. Except that when he lays eyes on the object, all he can do is blink.

_A flower._

He blinks again, frozen in shock as it continues to rise and fall with the sea. It’s perfect and round, cut neatly at the stem and burning a vibrant pink.

_A land dweller flower._

He dips below the surface again, startled by the realization, and doesn’t realize until seconds later that he just fled. From a _flower._ In the middle of the sea.

Scowling, Cloud bursts back above the waves. He sends a menacing glare at the innocent pink thing, but he can’t help the twitchy nervousness in his movements as he casts about for a boat or a land dweller. _Someone_ had to have dropped it. Someone nearby.

It’s only after he’s passed over it a few times that he eventually sees the basket on the pier. And trailing from the end of the stretch of wood, littering the water in a streak of dotted pink, is a whole host of flowers just like this one.

 _Somebody must have dropped them,_ he concludes. These are obviously precious flowers, too - important ones. The land dweller will want them back.

Perhaps Cloud can get paid two times today.

So he sets about collecting them. He stores his other job order in the pouch strung across his shoulders for safekeeping, checking the knots very briefly to ensure that it’s secure. And then he’s off.

He has to be quick to get the job done before the land dweller returns, so Cloud shoots forward with lightning speed. Gathering handfuls of flowers as he follows the trail back to shore. He isn’t fool enough to head up to the pier entirely unprepared, of course, and every time he darts forward with full hands to deposit his catch upon the wood, he makes sure to check for danger beforehand.

The next few minutes pass like this. A quiet sort of peace as the rain falls and he dashes across the waves. He spends a lot of time underwater, only peeking his head out to snatch away his prizes, and spends the most amount of time breathing air when he has to lift himself onto the pier.

It’s actually...quite fun. Cloud hopes the land dweller will be pleased to have their flowers back.

As soon as the thought hits him, he scowls. _For the money,_ he reminds himself fiercely, popping up to cup another rose top in his hands. He brings it underwater with him gently. _I’m doing this to get paid._

Land dwellers probably have very nice shinies. He doesn’t think much about it, but he hopes his reward will be something he can trade at the markets. 

_What if land dwellers trade in worthless things?_ He wonders. The likelihood is high, considering the fact that most land dwellers don’t even know merfolk exist. For all Cloud knows, he could be getting paid in rocks.

He continues to collect the flowers.

His chest feels warm by the end of it, a happy sort of bubble sitting trapped beneath his ribs. Cloud beats back the desire to sing with ruthless efficiency and pushes from the pier for a final time.

He hasn't sung in years, and he isn’t about to start now. Collecting flowers like a fool for a person who could want him dead or captured or worse. Acting ridiculously, high on something he can’t quite name that makes his skin itch and his fingers twitch. It would be beyond pathetic.

Cloud doesn’t have anybody to sing to, anyways. 

He never has. 

So he bites back the urge and he forces away the warmth, and he lets the coldness take over again. Retreating a few paces back - hovering at the ready beneath the waves - he waits for the land dweller to return.

He waits to get paid, and nothing more.

\---

Aerith’s haven is a small one, discovered and maintained and guarded religiously ever since she was a child, raw from her mother’s loss and needing somewhere safe. That very first day she discovered it, she’d dropped a flower in the water to remember her mother by. And on that very first day, she’d prayed to the Planet for her mother’s peace, and she’d told the Planet stories of her childhood.

Aerith doesn’t know if the Planet is listening, but it’s never really been about religion for her. Her mother had deserved the world, and she’d had it ripped from her. She deserves somewhere safe and peaceful, now, to get back what she lost. She deserves a haven like the one Aerith’s made - a calm in the eye of the storm. So Aerith shares it with her every year on the anniversary of her death, with flowers to remember her by and stories to tell her.Tales woven about her friends and her adventures and the things she's done; the good she's put into the world. A legacy that Ifalna will never get to see.

Over the years, her ritual has turned into something simpler - built on optimism instead of grief. She finds herself overjoyed to visit her mother now, and sometimes she’ll even come by the pier when it isn’t her anniversary, just to feel the light of her presence.

But the flowers are a special thing - a precious thing - reserved only for one day every year. A ritual that has never been broken.

Until now.

Her umbrella is numb in her hands when she lays eyes on the flowers. _Her_ flowers. Not scattered about the roiling sea or drifting peaceably over the waves. Not in the water _at all,_ but on the pier instead, piled in a dripping clump of broken pink petals.

Aerith has to press a hand to her mouth to cover the noise of shock that rushes to escape her lips, eyes wide and gut churning.

_Who could have done such a thing?_

There had been nobody else around. There’s _never_ anybody else around. Aerith always makes sure of it.

Yet here they are. Gifts to her mother. Returned.

She doesn’t know whether to laugh or be sick, stumbling forward in a daze until she’s reached the matted pile. She falls to her knees in front of it, intending to touch them or toss them back or take them up, she’s not sure.

All she can do is stare.

And then there’s a splash from in front of her, something slapping across the surface of the water loudly enough to make her jump, and a _man_ rises from the waves. He’s blonde and blue eyed, a cascade of water streaming down fine features and slim shoulders, and behind him curves a _tail,_ light blue scales coated in a shimmering green, with a fin like an autumn leaf fanned out golden and bright atop the ripples.

“Oh _Gaia,”_ Aerith breathes, shock rapidly turning to awe, “you’re a-”

She’s interrupted by a vicious hiss, the merman’s mouth stretching wide to reveal two sets of terrifyingly long fangs, and just like that the spell is broken. He rolls above the waves, a glimmer of scales beneath sunlight and an arc of droplets flying from his tail like diamonds, and in the very next second she’s doused from head to toe in water.

She gasps, eyes narrowing in fiery indignation as she pulls away. “Hey!” she snaps at the merman, which probably isn’t the smartest move when she doesn’t quite know what he’s capable of. The sharp point of his claws as he fans his fingers at her in response definitely doesn’t help settle the matter. “Watch it! You can’t just fling water at people!” 

Then, because Aerith has never been good under the pressure of a heated temper, she bends down and flings water right back. 

She doesn’t know what she expects when she does so. Maybe an offended or angry or even vengeful reaction; a retaliation of some kind in response. But none of that happens.

Her heart drops when the creature flinches away from her, the sharp lines of his pride instantly softening as he curls inward. The water lands harmlessly on his skin - more droplets to add to his collection - yet the way his eyes widen and his chest jumps, arms shooting up to cover his face, tells of an entirely different story.

Aerith shakes her head in a panic, forcing every other part of her to remain still. “I’m so sorry. I’m so- please don’t be upset!”

The merman freezes, blinking at her with a hesitant sort of hope, and eyes the places the water fell with wary suspicion. He doesn’t flee, though, and he doesn’t appear distressed anymore.

She wonders if he can understand her.

“I would never hurt you,” she tells the merman, despite the fact that she knows absolutely nothing about him, “I was just overreacting, but I didn’t mean any offense.”

He makes a strange clicking noise at the back of his throat, dipping under the water only briefly before resurfacing closer to the pier. He clicks again and chirps, a sharp noise like ripping paper following soon afterward, and Aerith frowns dumbly at him for a solid minute before he eventually concedes and nods at her flowers.

The reminder has her looking down at them again with new eyes. She smiles and peers back up at him through her lashes, happy to see he’s still there. “Did you bring these back for me?” 

The merman chirps out a yes and splashes vigorously.

“Well, thank you very much.” Aerith doesn’t tell him what they were meant for, not entirely trusting of this stranger just yet, but she’s pleased when he swims forward in a carefully planned meander to settle only a couple feet away.

He leans back, moving his tail to curl out in front of him instead, and Aerith’s mouth goes dry at the sight of it. Vibrant and intricately decorated and the most stunning thing she’s ever laid eyes upon, belonging to the most beautiful man she’s ever met.

“Wow,” she whispers, scooting past her pile of flowers to kneel at the very edge of the pier, “your tail is beautiful.” _You’re beautiful,_ she wants to say, but even she knows that’s a bit too much. 

The merman’s brow furrows, face marred by a frown, and the next clicking noise he makes is utterly indignant.

“What?” Aerith asks, alarmed. “What did I do?”

He nods at her flowers again and crosses his arms.

“Do you...want them back?”

When his eyes narrow, she knows that’s not the answer, but it’s only as his gaze slides across the shine of her bracelets that she gets an idea. She chooses an especially bright one and takes it off her wrist, leaning out to offer it to him, and the speed with which he nabs it from her fingers is so unexpected she almost topples into the water.

Then, before she can so much as get out another word, the merman dives back beneath the waves with his treasure. This time, he doesn’t resurface.

 _“Oh,”_ Aerith says in realization, “I guess you wanted to get paid, huh?”

She glances down at her pile of flowers again, petals plush and pink, logged with water yet still so vibrant, and can’t help but smile. _They really are quite beautiful._ She stands and looks out over the water, hoping to catch one last glimpse of the stunning creature that had visited her, but the water ripples calmly on the edges of a storm. Nothing breaks its surface.

She nods then and gathers the flowers with a single minded purpose. Gingerly, holding each one as if it contains the secrets of the universe, she refills her basket. Only when she’s packed up every last petal does she finally rise and turn on her heel. She walks down the peer without a single regret, heart thundering and mind clearer than a bright spring day, and for the first time since she was a child, raw and aching and desperate for some semblance of control, Aerith does not leave the flowers behind.

Instead, she takes them back home.

**Author's Note:**

> Just a little ficlet for a longer fic I might end up writing XD. Had the thought in my head and couldn’t let it go. This one differs in some ways because I wanted to have them meeting on the first go-round, but in the longer fic it’ll probably take them a while to meet in person lol. Anyways, I hope you enjoy :)


End file.
